


To My Enemy (Secretly Yours)

by randoyoyo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Epistolary, Fluff, Growth, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Pen Pals, Roommates, at the beginning, lots of fluff by the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22677415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randoyoyo/pseuds/randoyoyo
Summary: McGonagall has decided on some changes for those returning to Hogwarts for an 8th year. Not only will Houses be abolished, but there will be a shared commonroom and rooms will be assigned to pairs. On top of that, they're all randomly assigned a pen pal within the same year that they have to write to each week.Harry and Draco don't like the way any of this information sounds, but it doesn't set in until they get their room assignments...they're going to be roommates??
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 16
Kudos: 160
Collections: A Very Drarry Valentine's Day Exchange





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [orpheous87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orpheous87/gifts).



> I've had the absolute pleasure of writing with [orpheous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orpheous87/pseuds/orpheous87) before and I was delighted that I got to create something for you!! As soon as I saw 8th year and roommates, I knew the general way I wanted this story to go. It was so exciting because I love these tropes! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thank you SO much to [lastontheboat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lastontheboat/pseuds/lastontheboat) for being an amazing beta and helping me so much! Also shoutout to my friend for helping with details and being the best cheerleader!

_Harry_

> Dear 3B,
> 
> Well, here I am, writing to a concept of a person. To me, you’re just a combination of a number and a letter. Though I guess I’m the same for you, yeah? McGonagall said random pen pals would help us and be a useful bonding exercise among us 8th years. I trust McGonagall, but…I’m not so sure about these letters. Like what am I even supposed to say here?
> 
> I can’t tell you who I am. I can’t ask who you are. Any details about my life would make it pretty easy to figure out who you’re writing to, so it makes this more difficult. It’s supposed to be some personal thing, yeah? Well there’s so few of us in 8th year that too many details and it’ll take the anonymity right away.
> 
> So, maybe it’ll take a few before this feels like more than just an awkward display of “not too” personal yet still personal thoughts. I guess…I guess I could tell you some of the stuff that’s in my head? Stuff I’m ~~too afraid~~ not able to say out loud. It’s just. I’m viewed in a particular way, right? Like my friends and sometimes people who aren’t even my friends and sometimes the professors, too. They see me one way. So, if I start saying some of the things I’m ~~feeling~~ thinking, I don’t know how they would react. And ~~it feels like~~ it’s my responsibility to not step into that unknown. I’ve got to be someone reliable.
> 
> But that’s beside the point. I’m getting off topic here. I’m just trying to say that I guess I can try to tell you some of my unspoken opinions and thoughts, because that way you can’t identify me by the things I’m known to be.
> 
> I don’t know. I don’t know what we’re supposed to do or what you want out of this exchange. I’ll just. Okay, I’ll just end it here I guess. I’ve been saying that a lot, which is weird. Normally I’d just say something, even if I wasn’t sure, without an “I guess”. ~~I guess~~ ~~Maybe~~ It could be something new from the War but. _Merlin_. Okay, I’m ending this. Nice to...meet you? Ugh, hopefully you know what I mean.
> 
> Best,
> 
> 3A

“Harry!” There was a quick knock at the door. “Hermione’s in the common room; you ready to go?”

“I’m coming!” Harry sealed the envelope shut and gave his letter to Nora, the owl waiting in his window. He quickly finished getting dressed and gave one more sour glance around his room—his _shared_ room. With none other than Draco fucking Malfoy.

McGonagall, along with deciding that eighth years would no longer belong to their original Houses but all live and work together, felt it was a good idea to have said eighth years also write to pen pals. Pen pals who were none other than the other eighth years.

Harry believed she secretly thought the pen pal thing would be free therapy. A way of letting the eighth years talk it out amongst themselves, since they were the most affected by everything that happened during the War, without having to take her focus away from the other seven grades.

He felt guilty about thinking that way—it was McGonagall, for Merlin’s sake. She’d only ever had their best interests in mind and always tried to be helpful. But some part of Harry just couldn’t understand where these decisions were coming from.

So, there the eighth years were—thrown out of familiar common rooms, into _paired_ bedrooms, and having to bare their soul on paper to an unknown person who was most certainly someone that they actually knew very well from taking classes together at Hogwarts for years.

When Harry and Ron made their way to the new common room together to get Hermione, they passed by Malfoy. Harry averted his eyes, but pulled his face into a tight-lipped smile in case Malfoy looked his way. He needed to keep it at least cordial between them. It would be long enough of a year without having their rivalry permeate into the dorm room, a place where he should be able to relax.

This year would certainly be an adjustment with the War being over and all of the changes at Hogwarts. But Harry was nothing if not adaptable...and stubborn. As the trio took on Hogsmeade for the weekend, Harry felt something in him calm. He _would_ survive another year. And with his friends by his side? He’d damn well enjoy it too.

* * *

_Draco_

> Dearest 3A,
> 
> My, my, this should be an interesting year. How mysterious you sound with your “people see me one way” and “I’ve got to be reliable” and your “secret inner, unspoken thoughts”. As if every other person at Hogwarts could never face the same things, right?
> 
> We all have outer appearances, 3A. Every person has to battle with who they are and who others think them to be. If you don’t know about it, it just means they are doing a good job. I don’t wish to start an argument in our first letter but, honestly, did you think this through when writing to me? I suppose not. You already seem more the person to ramble first and think later.
> 
> I must agree with you on one point, however. I cannot fathom the reason our dearest Headmistress believed this would be a good idea. As you pointed out, we all know each other. It’s a false anonymity. Sure, to each other we are currently just a pseudonym of 3A or 3B, but we know each other. No matter who is on the other side of this letter, we have memories with one another. Isn’t that positively thrilling? Of course, by _thrilling,_ I mean _absolutely infuriating_.
> 
> I don’t want to tell you shit. I haven’t the faintest idea who you could be. Even if you were one of my closest friends, I would have already told you every possible thing I’d want you to know in person. There’s no reason for me to display myself or bare a single idea from my inner thoughts on this paper. We could say the Headmistress tried, but that would be a far stretch. She did little more than conceive an idea without thinking about the follow-through of its implications.
> 
> Putting that aside, you may do whatever you please. If you want to confess to me your darkest thoughts and deepest sins, there’s nothing stopping you. Just know that I have the full ability to ridicule you. Or better yet? I may full-on ignore you. Either way, it’s no skin off my back. Just guilt off your soul. Until next time, 3A.
> 
> Charmed,
> 
> 3B

Draco rolled his eyes as another snore ripped from Harry’s throat. His roommate was distracting and noisy and upsetting, but he had finally finished his letter. It was late, but this was the only time he could find to be alone, sit down at his desk, and respond to the pen pal. To be honest he...hadn’t meant to come across as harsh as he knew he sounded.

It just infuriated him that someone in his year would have the audacity to talk about appearances and conflicting inner thoughts when he’d had to battle so much of that himself with—well, with _everything_.

Draco exhaled a shaky breath before he could stop himself. Pushed a hand through his hair. His other hand swiped against his cheek before cupping his chin and resting there. He was fine now, it was fine, things were over.

Everything was over, and yet he couldn’t help but feel the heavy, hollow press of some feeling insistently behind his heart. He couldn’t identify the feeling, never could beyond the occasional outright _fear_ or _obligation_ , but there it still was. He knew it was getting late, so maybe he just needed to sleep it off.

He read through his letter one last time. Well, if 3A was one of his friends, then they would understand him already. And if they weren’t? He nearly snorted at his own question. He didn’t anticipate any new friends this year. It would have to do. He sealed the letter and set it aside, deciding to wait until the morning to give it to Nora, the owl that Potter and he shared for their room.

Without knowing why, he tried to be quiet as he got ready for bed. Though he doubted any noise could break through Potter’s apparent deep slumber. Despite this, his body seemed to want to put this to the test when he stumbled and knocked a stack of books off his desk clattering to the ground.

Potter’s snoring stuttered and he sat up, his hair impossibly worse than the tangled rat’s nest it was during the day. “Malfoy? What time’s it, what’s the noise?”

Draco closed his eyes, regretting leaving the stack on his desk so high. “Nothing, Potter. Go back to sleep.”

Potter blinked a few more times, seemingly to process what Draco had said. Maybe he was still sleep-addled, or maybe he was trying to figure out if he believed him. Either way, he snuffled a simple “‘Night, then” before readjusting in his bed and promptly snoring once more.

Draco rolled his eyes. Oh, what a mighty Saviour. If only The Daily Prophet could see him now. With a shake of his head, Draco turned away. Picked up the books on the floor. Straightened his side of the room once more. Ignored the mess that was Potter’s side. Blew out his candle. Tried to get some sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_Harry_

> 3B, whoever you are—
> 
> Not sure who pissed in your breakfast when you wrote your letter, but you don’t have to take it out on me. I’m not just writing to you for shits, we’re required to do this. So don’t act like you’re so much better just because you’re too emotionally constipated to even let out what you’re thinking anonymously. ~~Herm~~ My friend taught me what that meant and it seems to apply here.
> 
> Maybe you’re being so closed off because you think people won’t like you, to which I say—congratulations! I am _literally_ forced to write to you for the entirety of this year. There’s a free friendship for you, no matter what I think.
> 
> And I technically don’t know who you are, but like you pointed out I know at least to some degree what you’ve been through. What we’ve all been through. The War forced itself into all our lives in some form or another. We’re all changed by it. Some had it worse than others, but everyone _lost_ something. Or someone. So spare me your dramatics that _I’m_ the one only thinking of myself.
> 
> And why would you try to make it harder?? We have to write these for the entire year. If you’re not going to say anything in the letter, you’re just wasting parchment and ~~my time~~ making yourself even more miserable than you already sound.
> 
> You don’t have to tell me, as you so nicely put it, your “darkest thoughts and deepest sins”. Just. I don’t know, tell me how you’re doing. How you’re coping. Not just with everything that happened, but all the changes that are currently happening.
> 
> I mean, I guess I should go first? Even though I don’t know if you’ll be honest when responding...but. I don’t really like what’s happening. I don’t like that everyone is saying things can finally go back to normal because what even is “normal” anymore?
> 
> Because we all went through the War and the ones who decided to, who were _able_ to, come back to Hogwarts just found everything _changed_ . They expect us to feel normal, McGonagall says things are back to normal but they’re not. I’m _not_. And I wouldn’t believe that any other 8th year is too.
> 
> How could we be? How could any of us return to normal when ~~Voldemort~~ the build up to the fight was a part of who we were for so long? When the difference is that we don’t have to actively fight for our lives this year but that’s been the norm for so long that we don’t know what it means to live without it? When the only consistent thing beyond the mounting War for the past 7 years was the fact that Houses had rivalries, but now even that’s been taken away? When we’re forced into completely different living conditions?
> 
> How can we forget something like that when everything on this side of it isn’t the same? And I get returning to finish school, it gives us a routine. A place to live. But it’s where a lot of it happened. There are _memories_ here. And the routine’s been changed anyway, so how is this supposed to _help_??
> 
> Oh. Shit. I didn’t mean to go off like that. You’ll probably just ignore me, but I hope you don’t. It’s just...normal is a hard concept to grasp when I don’t know how to just _be_ anymore. And fuck, sometimes I just don’t see the point.
> 
> So, whether or not you’ll answer me honestly or sarcastically—I’m here. Well, because I have to be. So there’s that.
> 
> Yours forcibly,
> 
> 3A

Harry sat back in his chair when he finished his letter. He was glad that he was alone in the room. Skimming through it, he...he hadn’t meant to get quite _that_ honest, he supposed. Or write that much. He wasn’t sure what it was about his pen pal’s letter that had sparked that outburst. Maybe he just hadn’t found an outlet until now for what he’d been feeling.

Ron and Hermione were still his closest friends, sure, and Neville, too. But there was some stuff he felt he couldn’t tell them. He didn’t want them to worry too much. If he started expressing anything about how he didn’t feel normal they would just fight back with excuses that might be right but wouldn’t be the _point_ of what he was trying to say.

Not that he was blaming them! Just, he didn’t want them to worry. They had enough on their plates already.

The door to the room swung open and Harry scrambled to collect and fold the parchment. When he looked over at Malfoy, he was giving him a weird stare. “What?”

“Seems you’re hiding something, Potter.”

“Nothing more than everyone else.”

Malfoy just hummed which made Harry squint at him. What was he playing at anyway? Malfoy looked away first and walked to his own side of the room, so Harry stuffed the envelope under a stack of other papers. He would just have to remember to give it to Nora when Malfoy wasn’t in the room.

Though he wasn’t staring, Harry noticed Malfoy gather all his shower things. Ah, so he would have another half hour to himself before Malfoy returned. He pulled a face when he realised that he was now familiar with Malfoy’s routines, but living together does that. Thinking about it now, he almost laughed. There was a point in his life where he was desperate to learn every move Malfoy made, certain he could catch him red-handed. And yet, the solution he was looking for the whole time was to simply become his roommate.

Harry finally snuck the letter to Nora once Malfoy was gone and then flopped onto his bed. Sharing a room with him was still annoying, but it hadn’t been the bloodbath he’d first thought it would be. It was mostly the two of them doing their own things with occasional small talk if it just happened to be brought up. It was...well, it was another form of change. But Harry guessed this type of change wasn’t so bad.

* * *

_Draco_

> Dearest 3A,
> 
> Yours forcibly, hm? What a positively _wonderful_ way to begin this. Although, I suppose I can’t blame you.
> 
> I must agree that the current conditions at Hogwarts aren’t exactly what I would call...normal. I suppose, since you’ve droned so much about _your_ feelings, that it wouldn’t hurt to admit some of mine. While I do not like the living arrangements either, getting rid of Hogwarts Houses was the first mistake the Headmistress made.
> 
> Who now can we strive to be better than? How can we use a little healthy competition in order to improve if there’s no one to gloat over? Where can we throw our loyalties to? Certainly, the campaign for eighth years to be “Hogwarts unity” is foolish. Who would root for an entire year instead of a House? It was a dastardly decision and unforgivable. I’m quite glad that you seem to agree with these sentiments, otherwise, that would be a deal-breaker on any of this sharing.
> 
> In terms of other matters, normal is. Well, normal is what we make of it. While I would love to sit and complain of the changes at Hogwarts alone, there are other places that changes happened as well. Places that are...less forgiving. Places where identity is rooted, where the first inclinations of what it means to be _safe_ should be built and yet.
> 
> Forgive me, 3A. That’s not a concept I can spell out quite yet. Or perhaps ever.
> 
> In other news, I’m not sure how well accustomed to Quidditch you are, but I heard that the teams are beginning their practices. While we aren’t able to participate in House specific activities, that doesn’t stop us from rooting on the pitch. It can be the small things that help us.
> 
> Charmed,
> 
> 3B

“The small things that can help us?” Draco wondered aloud. Merlin, he was becoming quite the sap. He himself didn’t understand what the rather drastic tone shift from the first to second letter was all about, so he couldn’t imagine how confused it might leave 3A.

But that wasn’t his concern. He simply needed to respond and, well, he had now accomplished that. So, it was done.

The curiosity was starting to form within him though, no matter how much he tried to deny it and tell himself he was above knowing. Who was on the other end of these letters? They’d only talked twice now, there certainly wasn’t enough information to do anything with. There would be no way for Draco to find out.

Unless he really, really wanted to. But Draco was disciplined. He was refined. He could exercise his self-control with no problems. All he knew was that Pansy was one of the A sets. Well, and now he had a suspicion that Potter was too with that awful display of trying to hide papers. But there were others in eighth year who were also A set that he didn’t know about and he could never know how to narrow that down. Not that he wanted to. Merlin! He needed to get out of his own head.

Draco folded the letter and gave it to Nora, grabbed his cloak and stormed his way to the common room.

“Pansy!” he called while looking around, not caring who else was there. The trio plus Longbottom were gathered on one sofa and he avoided their gaze. Despite noticing that there was _one_ gaze, in particular, to linger longer than the others. He found his target, who was leaning her head casually on one palm and talking with Blaise. “Pansy, Blaise, we need to go for a walk.”

Pansy raised her eyes to Draco slowly and pulled an utmost dramatic face. “Darling, do we have to? I’m so comfortable here and I’d rather not go all the way outside again. Come sit with us.”

Draco made a noise in protest but Blaise beat him to speak with “Or go for a walk yourself.” Draco couldn’t help it. His eyes darted around the room to see if anyone was witnessing this disgrace. He caught eyes with Potter but pretended not to when they both looked away quickly.

“My own friends betray me,” he said, then turned on his heel and walked off briskly.

He didn’t know why his heart was racing. He didn’t know what he was feeling. But something was crawling its way through his nerves and he needed to move. He’d just barely made it outside before he was already out of breath.

And why? For what? What was wrong? What was wrong with him? He could see the grass of the lawn but now it was closer because apparently he was sitting down and he tried to look up but he couldn’t.

And it was just him. It was just him and then it wasn’t. And then someone was in front of him and grabbing his hands and pressing into them and saying something. Saying words.

“Malfoy,” the voice said, “it’s okay. You need to ground yourself. Think of something specific. Or look at something. You can look at me, or squeeze my hand.”

He wasn’t processing what he saw until there was _green_ and it wasn’t Slytherin green it was Potter green and Harry was talking to him and he squeezed his hand and focused.

“That’s it, Draco, you’re okay.”

It took a few more minutes but Draco was finally able to pull himself back to the present. The present where he was sitting outside on the grass and Potter was squatting in front of him. As soon as he looked up at Potter, his demeanor changed. He pulled back some and started getting more fidgety.

“Uh, sorry, I saw how you were in the common room and I...I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“You followed me outside?” Well. That came out harsher than he had intended.

Potter’s gaze hardened and a muscle in his jaw ticked. “I have experience. Roommate to roommate, I didn’t want to be accused if something bad happened to you. Just thought I’d help.”

When Draco didn’t have any further retorts, Potter just walked away. And he watched him. Potter may have a fucking huge Saviour complex, but he did help him just now. While his friends were too lazy to go on a walk with him, Potter had helped him. Hm. Maybe being his roommate wouldn’t be so bad after all.


	3. Chapter 3

_Harry_

> Dear 3B,
> 
> Wow, I just have to start with how shocked I am. Can it be that not only did you share some of your emotions (which I thought didn’t exist?), but you actually agreed with me on something?? My, my, 3B. That’s some fast progress.
> 
> As for Quidditch, you asked how accustomed I am to it as if most students don’t avidly attend just to root for their House or their friends. But yes, I am well accustomed to Quidditch. I think...I think before everything happened the way it did, I might have wanted to go pro. But it’s been a while now and I don’t know how I would do on a broom again.
> 
> It feels weird though because Quidditch is starting and we’re not allowed to join or even train with the other students. Like, even if I wouldn’t have, it would’ve been nice to have the option, y’know? It feels like you might understand where I’m coming from since you brought it up yourself. Since we won’t be able to meet _on_ the pitch, maybe we’ll see each other in the stands at the first match. Not that we would know. Okay, maybe ignore that last part.
> 
> I did want to talk about something else too. How has school felt for you this year? Beyond everything we’ve mentioned on whether it’s normal or not, I mean. Is this how you thought it would turn out? That’s not much clearer, is it? I don’t really know what I’m trying to say.
> 
> It’s just. The 8th years have been pretty separated. That shouldn’t really be a surprise since we’ve already discussed our dislike for getting rid of Houses, but it’s been weeks now. I didn’t really expect us all to become mates or anything, but maybe I didn’t think the common room would stay as segregated as it still is.
> 
> ~~Should we do something?~~ Just remembered we can’t really plan anything together since we aren’t supposed to know who the other is. So that’s out. Sometimes it’s hard not to try to fix things though.
> 
> Best,
> 
> 3A

Harry couldn’t believe himself sometimes. He had already been ranting to his pen pal about how he hated the changes at Hogwarts, and now here he was trying to plan some eighth year bonding activity like he thought it would actually work.

It was a stupid idea and honestly, if 3B mocked him he wouldn’t blame them. It was mad.

So why couldn’t he get the thought out of his head? It was two days after he had sent his latest letter and the single thought of an eighth year party was buzzing around in his brain so loudly that both Ron and Hermione had been forced to repeat themselves multiple times just since the start of dinner.

“Mate, is everything alright?”

When Harry apologetically asked Ron to repeat himself _again_ , Hermione sighed from across the table. “Obviously not. Care to share what’s got you so preoccupied?”

“Neither of you are my pen pal, right?”

Ron snorted. “Wait, _that’s_ why you’re spacey? Wouldn’t you think we’d have figured it out by now?”

“We’re not supposed to discuss who we have,” Hermione pointed out, still looking at Harry like she was deciphering a mystery. “But Ron’s right. We probably would have recognised both speech patterns and handwriting by now.”

Harry frowned. It’s what he figured, but he wasn’t sure if he should bring it up. The whole reason for telling his pen pal was to avoid worrying either of his friends with his thoughts. But, how was he supposed to fix anything if he didn’t discuss it with them?

“Wait, if you’re worried about it, what exactly have you been writing?”

“Ron,” Harry protested, “it’s not like that. It’s just. Does it bother you that none of the eighth years do anything together? That we all still separate ourselves by Houses in the common room?”

Ron looked ready to protest, but Hermione cut in first. “Actually, Pansy and I had discussed that a few nights ago. She has a...risky idea. I think she only brought it up to distract me because she’d been drinking and came stumbling back to the room, as if I couldn’t figure out where she’d been. We discussed it again when she was sober and, well, I think it could be fun.”

“Risky how?” Harry prompted.

Now, she hesitated. Harry’s thoughts were narrowing down to what Hermione would say next as she carefully chose her words. “Let’s just say, she already has a source for large amounts of fire whiskey…”

* * *

_Draco_

> Dearest 3A,
> 
> Since the creator of the eighth year bonding experience—by which I mean the bacchanal from Friday night—was kept anonymous, I’ve no idea if it’s you I should thank.
> 
> How charming for everyone to get to know each other in such a way. What’s better than being drunk off their arses on cheap fire whiskey? I’m sure everyone had such wonderful times and remembers all the _bonding_ and _unifying_ they did for the good of the eighth years while dancing to that horrific music.
> 
> I know I can’t truly blame you, since I am unsure whose fault it all actually was. Who’s to say if you had anything to do with this incident or if it was a cruel coincidence? Plus, I recognise that there were multiple hands involved in its planning. So, you’re safe for now, but be warned: you are treading on very thin ice.
> 
> While the party wasn’t exactly suited to my standards, I can still appreciate that there were many who did enjoy themselves. To your point about the Houses still staying separate, well, we could all see that that issue fixed itself within the first hour. I’m not surprised to already hear talk about another such party in the works. I tip my hat to your influence, 3A. Hopefully, you like what you started.
> 
> As for our previous conversation on Quidditch, I can understand where you’re coming from. I would be a fool to not admit that my dreams hadn’t been filled with Quidditch since I was young. Not being able to play this year? It’s either a disguised blessing to prevent too many unwanted emotions or it’s a further punishment along with everything else. Maybe it’s somehow both options. Either way, I know I’ll be there from match one to watch the current players. I will also, regrettably, respond: see you in the stands, stranger.
> 
> Charmed,
> 
> 3B

If anyone were to ask Draco how he’d felt about the eighth year party he would have rolled his eyes, lifted his chin, and mocked it with every word he’d built into his vernacular. As it was, he had even done the same in written form with his pen pal.

The truth, however, was another matter.

He’d actually _loved_ it.

The fire whiskey had been cheap, sure, and he knew for a fact that Pansy had been the one to procure it. But Salazar Slytherin, did it taste good as it burned its way down his throat. The music had still been awful, that part wasn’t a lie, but he couldn’t deny the allure of such tones amplified to fill the spaces around people and their conversations.

While crowds normally made him uncomfortable, there was a tangible layer of lightness to each person as they downed their drinks. Laughter was abundant and smiles were bright and Draco knew he should find it appalling, dislike the debauched _noise_ of it all but it was thrilling to let it all overtake his senses and just exist for a few hours.

Draco didn’t think he would wander past his usual choice of friends. Blaise was rotten and Pansy was Pansy, but Draco went into this party believing he would simply observe.

That was, until he’d found himself sitting in a circle of people, Houses be damned. A group of them all mixed together and talking and even the precious Golden Trio was there. Not that he was looking.

But the glow of alcohol that had affected everyone had _really_ affected his roommate and despite every instinct Draco felt he couldn’t help but notice that Potter had looked positively _alive_ and thriving in this environment. It was a bit of an intoxicating sight itself.

Not that he would _ever_ let that be known. What’s more, not that anyone would believe him if it ever did slip out. Draco was, unknowingly, imagining it now. He pictured himself, of course, as the main actor. He, Pansy, and Blaise were dishing their usual recap of newfound information over breakfast in the Great Hall. The lights would dim as a natural enhancement of what came next: “Pansy, Blaise, I must regret to inform you both that Potter is off the market, as I wasn’t able to keep my eyes off him when we were all smashed.”

Forgetting where he was—and the time, as he’d stayed up late once again to write his letter to his pen pal—Draco bursted out laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Which, of course, roused Potter from his sleep.

“Malfoy, you up still? It’s late, s’not good for you.”

It felt a great deal like being caught red-handed, even though he hadn’t been doing anything. “It’s fine, Potter. Go back to sleep.”

“Sleep helps, you need sleep. _Draco_.”

Now he was positive he was hallucinating. “What?” he asked, hoping Potter would clarify that it was a misunderstanding. The only response he received was a soft snore. 

If Draco hadn’t already been sitting down, he would be looking for a chair right now. His heart was racing. From the overall oddness of the situation, he was sure. Draco blew out his candle to let the darkness bring clarity to his thoughts. If that could be found. The only light now came from limited beams of moonlight in the window, a stream of which fell right across the sharpened cheekbones of Harry’s face.

Draco felt his face burn as he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t trust any of his senses and his thoughts were too loud. Where did he go from here?

What was happening to him?


	4. Chapter 4

_ Harry _

> Dear 3B,
> 
> Did you hear what McGonagall wants us to do now?? I still have to process it, honestly. I don’t know if she’s just gotten bored with the pen pals or if she doesn’t believe the 8th years are getting along as well as she’d hoped.
> 
> Guess that means the adults really haven’t heard about either party then, yeah? Which seems good for us. While the professors all recite the same speech that they just want to see us be able to grow and bond as a group, I don’t think they’d react too kindly to the method we’ve found of doing so.
> 
> Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves again at the party, though, which was nice. If I’m honest, I really hope that means these continue. My favourite part is when everyone is finally tired enough to sit down and we end up sprawled in a way that’s mostly a circle. It feels easier to me once we all reach that stage. Barriers are down, we’re just mates hanging out. It’s interesting to see my roommate in that environment, since it doesn’t really seem like his scene. But he relaxes with us and it’s alright.
> 
> Speaking of roommates, however, back to my first point! McGonagall must be tired of the pen pals because she’s making us start answering “get to know you” questions each week. It’s so late into the year. If there was something I didn’t know about my roommate that I wanted answered, I’d just ask him.
> 
> Not that he and I really have that much to say. It’s not that we don’t get along, surprisingly. If you’d asked me at the beginning of the year, well, that would’ve been a different story. But he’s actually been...he’s not that bad.
> 
> But it’s not like we’re best mates. So these questions are going to add unnecessary tension to our room. It’s not something I really want to deal with, but maybe I can throw things off a bit? There’s something I’d been thinking about for a while, but maybe it will help ease up on the awkwardness of what we’ll have to do. Not sure how I’ll do it. Not something you can really help me decide though, yeah?
> 
> So, good luck to you and your roommate. Hopefully things are better over there.
> 
> Best,
> 
> 3A

It had been a few weeks since the first party with the eighth years. Since then, there had been scattered approval and demand for a second. Harry found that he was absolutely addicted to them. He wasn’t sure if he could pinpoint a reason if asked...it was everything together that made him already hope for more.

But, that wasn’t what was currently plaguing his mind. No, there was something far bigger and much more pressing: the questions.

He and Malfoy had been getting along as well as any two roommates who largely just ignored the other get along. Now this? These “get to know you” questions McGonagall was forcing each pair of roommates to answer together threatened to topple that careful balance right to the ground. There was no telling what could possibly be involved in those questions. Harry needed to ease into things.

His brilliant idea? Offer to Draco a situation in which they might be able to start bonding before they even addressed the questions. He made a quick decision on the first idea that came to mind and he immediately set about pulling strings to make it happen.

So, there he was. Waiting in their room for Malfoy to return. When he finally did, Malfoy stopped short, staring at the way Harry was just kind of...standing there.

“I had an idea,” Harry blurted, wishing he’d thought this through a little better. Malfoy quirked a perfect eyebrow.

“First of your life? Don’t look too excited; loads of people have ideas and most of the time they’re rubbish.”

Harry was ready to bite back, but stopped himself just as his mouth was opening. He figured Malfoy might be reluctant at first, he just had to get the idea out there. “I, um, I was wondering if you’d want to have a movie night together? Y’know, like, as roommates?”

Now both of Malfoy’s eyebrows were raised. “A what?”

“A movie night,” he continued. Harry explained that it was a muggle concept and that they could actually be quite entertaining. He’d also tracked down pizza and snacks. It was a long shot for this to work but slowly, ever-so-slowly, Malfoy’s face began to relax.

“Okay, fine. But if I don’t like it I’m leaving.”

“Okay,” Harry mirrored, his face lighting in a smile. He actually said okay!

This would be perfect. It would be a good way to start to get to know each other and it was a great way to ease into whatever lay ahead of them for those questions. And even if Malfoy was scowling the whole time because he didn’t understand why they had to use their hands with the pizza in such an undignified act, he still ate it. And even though throughout the movie he kept complaining that “What do you mean the Muggles don’t know the toys can talk? Wouldn’t they have noticed them moving at some point? That seems unrealistic,” he never left. And even though Malfoy loudly complained until bed that “movings” were an odd concept and he didn’t see how anyone would watch them willingly more often and that he would never want to see another again, Harry counted it all as a win.

The next day, Harry figured they had put off the questions for long enough. It was Saturday, and Ron and Hermione had already made plans for a day alone. So, what better excuse did he have?

“Hey, uh, Malfoy? Not sure if you’ve got anything today, but d’you think we should go through the roommate questions?”

He expected Malfoy to fight back. They hadn’t discussed whether or not they were actually going to answer them yet, so Harry didn’t know how he felt. Plus, he didn’t know if he was still riled up from the movie incident last night.

Malfoy let out a sigh, but agreed. Oh. That was easier than Harry’d thought it would be.

So they started on the questions, easing into the whole affair with the most straightforward one possible.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“My, my, Potter. Digging deep from the beginning.” He hummed, “Green.”

Harry nodded. “That makes sense, Slytherin.”

A pause. “Yeah, right, of course. What about you?”

He focused on Malfoy’s face which looked flushed for some reason. “Red, I guess.”

They kept going, their answers ranging from honest to silly to sometimes something Malfoy would refuse to answer.

“What do you value most in a friendship? Hm, I’d have to say honesty. Ron and Hermione could tell me anything and I’d be fine with it as long as it was the truth, y’know? Like it could be bad, but we’d just reassess and move on from there. You?”

“Loyalty. It’s hard to find people who will stick by you...especially when. Especially when they  _ know _ me.”

There was something Harry couldn’t describe as they answered everything. Sure, the questions were generic and didn’t have to reveal a single thing if they wanted to keep it that way. But they were all so  _ personal _ . While it was hard for him to be honest himself sometimes, he did his best. He had to confront some things along the lines of childhood and fears and places he’d want to visit (he never thought he would have the option). Harry felt his gaze shorten up. He pushed past the knot in his throat and shared his experiences; more of it than he had intended, actually. 

Malfoy didn’t mock him. He didn’t really respond. Instead, he started sharing himself. And Harry had thought he’d understood where Malfoy had come from and just why he worked the way he did, but he was not prepared for this. He was not prepared for the fact that they could  _ relate _ to each other through their rare-spoken trauma.

Malfoy was telling him the truth, a truth that was honest and raw and  _ vulnerable _ .

Harry didn’t know what to do. So, he just finished the questions and then they sat there in the room that they shared. Harry had to commend McGonagall if this was her plan the whole time. Though the physical distance was no difference, and he wasn’t sure how it happened, he and Draco were definitely closer.

* * *

_ Draco _

> Dearest 3A,
> 
> Somehow, I find myself agreeing with you once again. The questions the Headmistresses is making us answer with our roommates have proven to be...rather a nuisance to answer.
> 
> It’s not that I’m unable to answer them. There were perhaps a few that I skipped, but the majority I did answer and I can report that I’m not happy about them.
> 
> For instance, why would we be asked to describe our cleaning style?? I don’t need to know what cleaning style he uses, I can tell just by looking around our room. He knows none of the proper spells and couldn’t hold a broom to save his life.
> 
> As for his family, well, who doesn’t carry their own share of baggage on that subject. Honestly, I believe the whole thing was ridiculous. We’ve been sleeping in the same room for weeks now. That fact alone gives him too much power. I did not need to supply this additional edge by which he could act against me when every night we are forced into our most vulnerable state. Anything can happen while we’re asleep.
> 
> Though I suppose, that would be a bigger issue if I could actually  _ get _ some sleep. I’ve found that I’ve been rather restless as of late, which just adds anger to my entire situation. I’m tired enough from my own conditions outside of my control, why must the Headmistress pester us with something additional. Ah, well. I hope your adventures fared better than my own.
> 
> Charmed,
> 
> 3B

Draco knew he needed to be careful. He was already in an unsure state within his own mind, but now those dastardly questions from the Headmistress were making him say things he never thought he would voice aloud.

And to Potter, no less. Draco was still not able to understand the pieces that were falling into place around him. His opinions of Potter were changing without his consent.

He wasn’t supposed to listen to Potter’s tales of Privet Drive and sympathize. He was supposed to find a new angle with which to goad him!

He wasn’t supposed to listen to Potter tick off his favourite candies and try to memorise a few for future use. He was supposed to laugh at how many there were and chastise his problematic sweet tooth.

And he certainly had  _ not  _ intended to find Potter’s laugh so bloody endearing. Draco was not supposed to notice how brilliant it looked and how it always began with the smallest scrunch of his nose.

Draco wasn’t supposed to notice any of these things but he certainly had and oh, fuck.

He had a crush on him. Draco had a crush on Potter. On Harry. Draco Malfoy had a bloody crush on Harry Potter and he didn’t know what to do.

His heart was hammering. There was certainly no one he could tell. The other eighth years he either didn’t trust or knew for a fact they would mock him. So what could he do?

There was someone he could talk to. He’d called it a false anonymity, but his pen pal had become someone nice to converse with. It didn’t seem that they knew who he was, since no one had confronted him. So, maybe this was more secure than he’d originally thought. Maybe, he could share more. Maybe...or, perhaps the pen pal could be his new distraction. Draco didn’t think he was ready to voice (or write) what he was feeling quite yet, even though that didn’t make it less true, so it was probably better to stick with distraction.


	5. Chapter 5

From there, the letters picked up speed. Neither Harry nor Draco were waiting the usual week in between each letter because they were, for a reason they couldn’t describe, excited to hear back from their pen pal. They continued writing full letters but it was mere snippets that stood out amongst it all.

* * *

> Dear 3B,
> 
> You mentioned not being able to get sleep, why not?? That could be a real problem. Sleep is super important for you!

> Dearest 3A,
> 
> Wait, you never mentioned what happened with your roommate? Was he okay with whatever trap you forced him into?

> 3B,
> 
> Another 8th year party this weekend! Maybe I’ll see you there ;)

> Greetings and salutations 3A,
> 
> Have you heard what’s happening in Herbology? Honestly, I can’t imagine why the professors would see fit to have us suffer through this class more, but just to repot plants again? Isn’t there anything more advanced they could have us do?

> Hi! 3B!!
> 
> Did you hear about the outing the professors planned for the 8th years? Finally, they’re doing something for only us that actually sounds fun!

> Dear 3B,
> 
> Honestly it was my fault for even hoping. I should have realised the outing would just be about learning.

> 3A, my mysterious confidant,
> 
> Why is there _another_ eighth year party planned? Are we not all still recovering from last weekend?

> 3B, hello,
> 
> I’m honestly okay with the way things are in the dorms. My roommate’s ch I don’t know if it’s my roommate or just me finally noticing things (my friend always tells me I’m dense) but honestly he’s fun to hang around. Each party we keep talking a little bit more and things aren’t bad right now between us. I hope it stays okay.

> To the illustrious 3A,
> 
> Your roommate would be a fool to not be friends with you. Or, at the very least, engage in a conversation. Seeing as you do provide such good entertainment for me.

> 3B,
> 
> Do you think I’m maniacal? I’ve had four people say that to me this week in separate situations. Am I really maniacal???

> To whom it may concern (3A),
> 
> I’m begging you to attend the Quidditch match tomorrow. I’m sure you would anyway, but it’s going to be an absolute disaster and I need someone to discuss it with and my friends are all wankers who don’t wish to join me.

> Dear 2A (hah! Just kidding. 3B!!)
> 
> Wait have we talked about who we fancy? Is there anyone who’s caught your ever-so-careful eye?

> Dearest 3A,
> 
> How could I have time to fancy anyone when all of my time is spent ever-so-carefully responding to your letters about your latest maniacal achievement? ~~There may or may not be someone but I couldn’t dare tell who.~~

> Hey 3B,
> 
> Merlin, sometimes I really wish you weren’t just a pen pal. It’s hard to believe you’re another 8th year and we probably aren’t friends.

> URGENT! (Pay attention to me 3A),
> 
> I was going to ask your opinion of the assignment for Hagrid, but knowing you, this is the first you’ve heard of it.

> 3B!
> 
> It’s been one of those weeks, mate. I’m gonna be reckless at this Friday’s party.

> Dearest 3A, my dear friend,
> 
> I must strongly advise that you restrain yourself.

> 3b,
> 
> I’m writing you after us 8thers were hanging out again right?
> 
> I dont know who else to tell so you have to shhh okay? But my roommate? I thought he was bad. I thought. I thought a lota thigns over the years because we always fought and he was my archnemesis but now I dont think that. My roommate?
> 
> Fuck, dont tell him. When he drank too much firewhiskey his face was kinda red and when he tried not to laugh from something Pansy said he bit his lip and honestly? I couldnt stop looking at him. It was kind of hot. Hes hot.
> 
> ~~Har~~ 3a

* * *

_Draco_

Draco was freaking out. Draco was freaking out because he had figured out who his pen pal was. His pen pal had written him something after one of the eighth year parties while he was drunk and had nearly signed his own name. And it was Harry. It had to be. It was Harry, and Harry had told his pen pal—who was _Draco_ —that he thought he was hot.

How could he process something like that and live? How could he comprehend that the person he fancied actually found him attractive? And how could he confront himself with the knowledge that he had a physical record of how Harry’s opinion of him had changed over time in the form of each of the pen pal letters that Draco kept carefully tucked away into a drawer of his desk?

There was no way that Harry knew he sent that letter. He also wouldn’t know that it was actually Draco he’d sent the confession to. So what was Draco supposed to do with this information?

A direct addressing of the situation would never work. He couldn’t just walk up to Harry and relay what he knew. He didn’t even know if Harry’s confession meant anything behind physical attraction. Draco wasn’t sure if he could dare to hope that it might extend further.

How could he even find out? Unless...unless there was a way for Draco to show Harry how much he meant to him. If there was something that Draco could do for Harry, if there was a way to show that he cared without having to be so obvious.

Something that would pique Harry’s interest and show that Draco had been listening all along. Something like—Draco gasped as an idea popped into his head. He knew exactly what to do.


	6. Chapter 6

_Harry_

It was the last day of November and Harry couldn’t believe how quickly time had flown. It seemed like just yesterday he was finding out that he would be rooming with Draco Malfoy and having to write pen pal letters every week.

Now, there was the first snowfall of the season fresh on the ground outside and his roommate had just told him that he had a surprise.

Draco pulled out two broomsticks from his closet. “I, um, knew you hadn’t been in a while. I haven’t either. Plus, snow always looks so nice from up high, so I thought we might fly together?”

Harry’s heart lurched and he thought it must be because he hadn’t been flying in so long. After an enthusiastic yes, they raced to the lawn.

Harry couldn’t really describe how it felt to be back on a broom. He knew he had mentioned to his pen pal, however long ago, that he didn’t know if he’d even remember how to fly if he got back on one. It had been a lie. How could Harry forget anything about the experience that made him fall deeper in love with magic than he’d already been. Flying had been there for Harry throughout all of his adventures and was, ironically, able to ground him during Quidditch matches.

Now all of those feelings rushed back to him alongside the giddiness that came with the first snow. Harry didn’t know how Draco could have known that this was the perfect thing to do.

Up in the air, Harry could take in sights that were so familiar to him. Hogwarts, the Quidditch pitch, the forest. Even seeing Draco on a broom alongside him made him smile with memory. Memory, but also new.

Draco was a bit ahead of him and when he turned to look back at Harry, the wind made his hair flutter. He smiled back at him and something pulled in Harry’s stomach. “Race you round the castle and back!” Draco called.

Harry just grinned and shot forward, letting out a whoop as his broom raced and weaved through the grounds. He and Draco were neck and neck, trading places as to who was in the lead only to round another corner and switch back. It was wonderful. Flying was wonderful. Draco was—

Harry stopped short and Draco flew past him to the place they’d taken off from. When he noticed he’d won, he dismounted the broom and did a little jump into the air. “Hah! Take that, Harry, I knew I would show you how it’s done. Harry?”

As he turned to look at where Harry was still flying in place on his broom, Draco’s face scrunched lightly in confusion even though a small smile was still present. Harry’s heart gave a throb at the realisation: Draco was wonderful, too.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

“Harry, what’s wrong? I couldn’t help winning, I’m just better is all.”

“This has been fun but sorry, Draco, I’ve got to go.” Harry took off towards the way back into Hogwarts. He needed to process things. He needed to talk to someone. He needed to write! He could write to his pen pal. That would be good, that would sort everything out.

> 3B,
> 
> Listen, I know that we’ve been talking a lot more and I actually really enjoy it. But I can’t even focus on writing anything decent back in regards to our last conversation, to be honest. There’s. Something’s happened.
> 
> Well, that sounds really dramatic. It’s not anything bad really, I just don’t know how to react to this. I don’t know what to do. And I don’t think I can tell anyone?? I don’t know who else I could, but I think I might burst if I have to keep it in any longer. So.
> 
> Shit. I really, _really_ hope McGonagall doesn’t announce who everyone’s pen pal is at the end of the year because this would be _beyond_ embarrassing if anyone found out. But again, I don’t know who else to tell?
> 
> 3B, I’m. I think I am? I think I’m in love with my roommate. Do you remember how I said my roommate wasn’t actually that bad and how through the last several months he’s been doing really amazing things? I don’t know how. I think I love him?
> 
> What do I do now?
> 
> Help,
> 
> 3A

Harry couldn’t believe himself. Not only was he still reeling from his revelation, but now he’d gone and spilled it all for his pen pal to read. He’d sent it before really thinking it through and now that he had time to calm his breathing, he started to wonder if that was rash and stupid.

But his pen pal didn’t know who he was, right? His roommate could be any of the eighth years, so it didn’t really narrow it down. He was probably freaking out for nothing. About the pen pal, that is. He was right to still be freaking out about the whole being in love with Draco bit. How could he not be after that stunt he pulled earlier? After he bought broomsticks for them so they could do something Harry enjoyed together?

Then, as if called forth from his thoughts, Draco burst through their bedroom door, eyes wide and a crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

“Do you mean that?” he panted.

Harry’s eyebrows scrunched together, his body on high alert. “Mean what? What’re you talking about?”

Draco marched over right up close to Harry, gaze darting back and forth between Harry’s eyes as if trying to decipher something. “I’m 3B,” Draco finally said.

Harry stared. A pause. Then, “OH MY—”

Draco cut him off with a kiss. Draco was kissing him. Harry was in love with Draco, and Draco was standing here kissing him while Harry kissed back.

If Harry’s brain had been on overload before, now it had simply ceased to function. Nothing beyond him and Draco and _they were kissing_.

Draco pulled away and Harry would be lying if he said he didn’t chase the touch a little. “You’re my pen pal?” he asked, causing Draco to snort.

But the snort was followed by a smile the likes of which Harry had never seen. “You’re so fucking daft, Harry.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

“I think we have bigger things to talk about here.”

Harry nodded, unable to keep the wide grin off his face. “You’re absolutely right. How could you not like the eighth year parties?”

“ _Honestly_ , you—”

Harry stole another quick kiss. “I used them as an excuse to talk to you, d’you know that?”

Draco paused, his cheeks doing that lovely, lovely darkening again. “You did not.”

“I did. But what about you? You come here and kiss me and you’ve given no indication you even liked me!”

“Harry, dearest, you’re honestly just not that observant. I have been interested,” he laughed, “I have been interested in you for far, far too long.”

“Well,” Harry said as he brought a careful hand up to brush Draco’s cheek. “We’ll have to make up for all that time, won’t we?”

* * *

> My dearest 3A (also known as the Saviour of the Wizarding World, the Chosen One, the Light of My Life),
> 
> Harry! I understand that we’re still not supposed to know who our pen pals are, but I’m tired of pretending and that would make these required letters all the more unbearable. I’m also breaking the pattern by writing to you first this time, since I arrived back at Hogwarts before you and am awaiting your return.
> 
> I also understand that we spent Christmas break together, but then you left me and it’s been the longest two weeks of my life while you were away with the Weasles. When are you coming back?? I’ve left a surprise for you in our room.
> 
> Okay, I’ll tell you. I wanted to give those idiotic muggle devices that you tried to get me invested in another go. It worked! I’ve now brought our own “movie” collection and “movie playing device”.
> 
> So. I’m here. Waiting. Maybe we can make a night of it when you get here? I also...I may have also bought a blanket that is large enough for the both of us, so you will stop having to steal mine.
> 
> Charmingly yours,
> 
> ~~3B~~ Draco xx


End file.
